Best conversation with my brother EVER

So, three (or so) years ago, I was on the phone with my brother at work, and I did not much enjoy my job. Here is the conversation we had:

Me: Ugh. This place. Seriously!
J: So, go somewhere else.
Me: Yeah, like where. What am I going to do that will not suck exactly as much as this???
J: You know what I've been thinking you should do? You should be on that America's Next Top Model show, because you are MUCH smarter than those girls.

NO, for real. He actually said those things. It made me want to simultaneously hug the hell out of him, and laugh because he thinks that MY BRAINS would win me the competition.
OH MY GOD HER BRAINS LOOK SO AWESOME IN THOSE SHOES!

Don't know why I thought of that, but it makes me smile.

Icy

I know someone (professionally, not biblically) whose heart has been replaced with a venti, double caffeinated, iced poison latte. It's sad, really. I would hate to be suspicious of people all of the time.

Erm. *mourns loss of this person's heart*

In which I prattle on about nothing...

So, I worked like a motherfu- ...um ...well, a lot this weekend. 2pm to 10pm on Saturday and 7am to noon AND 6pm to 10pm on Sunday. Dang. Look at me go. To bed. 'Cause I am tired.

Anywho. So, I have a deep loathing for people who want to hug me, but they've got on too much perfume (or, for that matter, b.o.), or they just applied perfume, and they transfer at least 60% of their smell to me. DUDE. I don't have a great sense of smell, but I am very accustomed to my own smell (Scent of Yum, as I think of it) and I am really sensitive to how other people smell if they're close. The only smells I really like on myself are Chanel Mademoiselle (because I am a girl, people) and sandalwood ("clean hippie"). I don't like getting a drive-by-perfuming.
*this doesn't count if you're a cute boy with whom I'm getting it on. Then it's ok and largely unavoidable.

So, today I ate some truly garbage-y food. I'm too embarrassed to even mention what. But - lots of salt and crappy chocolate and the like. Hey - Judgey McGee! It was a very stressful day. Anyway. After a really garbage-food-eating-day, you know what I want for dinner? Yes! More trash (no, really). Burger King is right next door to where I work, so I made the ridiculous decision to go there. I can count on one hand the times I've been to Giant-Corporate-FastFood-Establishment since moving to the Boston area with all of its fine locally-owned eateries, and most of those times were at a rest-stop on the way to PA. I had completely forgotten the Misery of the Drive Thru. Sweet Cuban Missile Crisis that's a long wait! And the people at the first window (where I paid) weren't friendly. I tried to engage them in conversation, but I got NO lovin'. No response to my joke about how it would be gross if I accidentally got Apple Fries (OMFG what are those) instead of regular, original potato fries and put my standard tons-of-salt-and-ketchup on them. Seriously, these people were impervious to my charms. So, I just sort of stared at them while they discussed Grand Theft Auto. Really. When I finally got my food, I immediately tore open my Whopper Jr., and it was good. Yes it was - there's no finer burger for $1.00, in my opinion. I was then thinking what a great decision it was to stop at the BK while I bit open a ketchup packet and released an evil spray of ketchup onto my pants. Oh yes. They're not my favorite pants, but they are "go-to" pants, for days like today when I think "Oh, ugh, everything is awful what the F will I wear?". They are blue and white stripy pants and now I look like a patriotic hobo. Fast food karma: very cruel.

Last thought: on my way home in the car, I was thinking about how much cooler New Jersey is when I compare it to Pennsylvania. Yeah, I know that PA has Philadelphia and Pittsburgh, and they're both pretty cool. And that NJ has what? Camden? Princeton? Newark(ha!)? But even STILL, I like it better. Because New Jersey is scrappy, yo. Pennsylvania is a giant bully that gets you lost on its poorly labeled highways (everything is either "the bypass" or "the blue route") and steals your chocolate milk and then pukes bad grammar on you. New Jersey, on the other hand, is the short, gold-chain-wearing, hat-on-sideways, awkward braggart who asks you out and then screams that you're a lesbian when you say no, but you get such a laugh out of it and it's such a good story that you always look fondly on New Jersey because of it. That's just what I think, of course. I'm sure other people have completely different opinions of the states, but I have lived in both and I have read their diaries and New Jersey has a crush on me, so I'm partial.
Wow, re-reading the above makes me realize that I may be a little tired, so... nighty-night!

11

Last night was lovely. I picked up A at work and we went to a Korean/Japanese restaurant in Porter Square. I had a giant Sapporo (yummy beer from Japan) and we shared veggie croquettes and melt-your-face-off spicy shrimp sushi. We ate outside and chatted and enjoyed the mild weather.

So, eleven. Eleven is the average number of hours I've been working per day this week. And last week. Also, the 3 weeks before that. Additionally, I'll be here tomorrow (Saturday).

And, I'm ok with that. I'm a modern woman, people. I work, I nurture, I bake, I manage. I do it all in flip-flops.

I wish you all a restful, fun, sun-shiny weekend.

Tagged, Part deux

4. I invented a holiday. True story. It's called Thanksgiving 2 and occurs on a convenient weekend in March. I brought forth Thanksgiving 2 for several reasons. I love the food; Thanksgiving dinner is my favorite meal of the year. Also, it goes along with the hosting thing that I love. People show up at my home, watch a marathon of fun movies, enjoy each other and delicious food (that I spend all day cooking with enthusiasm), and go away satisfied. Friends lend their help and time to make it exactly what a holiday should be - a special vacation. Thanksgiving 2 has only been held once, but will be an annual tradition. I'm also pleased to say that since it's not held on an actual holiday, people are free to spend the time with me instead of their families.

5. I crack myself up. Yeah. I really do. It makes sense: I have my exact sense of humor! But I frequently find myself laughing at myself when no one else is amused... Luckily, J will usually laugh at the same stuff, so I'm not alone. Thanks, J...

6. I hate talking on the phone. This doesn't apply to everyone - I don't hate being on the phone with people I never get to see. And I don't mind calls where there is an important transfer of information - those are good too. I do not want to be on the phone just to be on the phone. For that I prefer email or texting, where I have time to craft a response. I'm bad on the phone and I'm worse at calling people back. - I apologize. It doesn't mean AT ALL that I don't want to talk to you. It's just a major flaw, and one that - admittedly - makes me a poor correspondent. I'm not proud of it, but I have a terribly difficult time changing this particular behavior. Please, bear with me.

7. My ideal career arc is silly. So, if I could choose, I would be a movie star for the next few years, simultaneously owning a smoosh-faced-dog ranch; then I would take a little time off to have a baby; then I would be a movie star again for maybe 20 years; and then I would be the host of a game show that focused on movie trivia. I would kick Alex Trebek's ass.

I'm weird :)

Tagged, part 1

So, I've been tagged by FeatherNester and I am compelled to reveal 7 interesting things about myself. As ScarletLily wrote, I'm not sure if they'll be all that interesting, and I know the same bloggers as those ladies, so I may not be able to tag others, but I'm game for the exercise. I think this may be in parts, because I do need to do that thing where I work to bring home the bacon. Mmmm...bacon.

1. I am grateful. I cannot stress how much of an effect this has on the way I live my life. When the leaves come out in spring, I could cry every time I look at them. I am elated when my younger cat nuzzles up against me like a little spoon on weekend mornings when I'm still in bed. I like going to work, and I've been staying later and later because I feel a personal responsibility to the fabulous, energetic people I work with. I am grateful that I can make a delicious chocolate cake. And that my brother has the same twisted sense of humor I do. And that I have the resources to contact friends and family who live far away. And that I am healthy. And that I can be on stage frequently enough to get my theatre fix - and that people come to see me and say I'm good at it. Also, I am grateful, with soul-tickling bliss, at the constant love, generosity, faith and companionship I get from my friends, by whom I am so impressed. Let it never be said that I don't know what I have. I do.

2. I am simultaneously incredibly self conscious and an exhibitionist. These things are in no way mutually exclusive. Nor are they contradictory, really. It's not as though being self-conscious means that I feel like I'm a hideous troll, while being an exhibitionist means that I think I'm the prettiest girl at the party...I think neither of those thoughts. I put these two traits together because I think they're linked, and I'm not sure I would be one without being the other.
I am very aware of my body, which is good and bad. It makes me hyper-vigilant/mildly obsessive about things that I'm wearing. I have been referred to as "well-put-together", which always tickles me. It's because I always have an eye on what my body is doing: how it's positioned, my posture, the look on my face, does my body language indicate that I'm engaged with what's happening? Am I friendly, cold, distracted? For years, I behaved very consciously as if I was being watched at all times, even when I was alone at home. I enjoyed the fake attention, and the opportunity to analyze my own movements and behaviors. Weird, dude - I know.
As an extension of this awareness, I've developed an actual joy of being seen. I model nude, I do theatre, I occasionally display strange behavior in public (host a talk show on the T, anyone?) to ensure that it's not just my imaginary camera following me. It's not as though I require all of the attention all of the time; I'm an introvert and that might actually kill me. I simply need to know that my efforts are not for nothing. I think that this side of me has helped me to be comfortable in business meetings, on stage, naked in broad daylight, what have you... Judge if you must.

3. I love being a host. Love it. I love the preparation that goes into having people over to my place - the responsibility, the planning, the cleaning, the lists, the spreading out of the napkins and getting infrequently used dessert plates out of the cabinet. I love matching wine glasses and the savory smells and people laughing and eating and telling stories. I love the arc of hungry people getting full and sleepy.
I love to be thought of as a gracious host. I want to make people happy and satisfied. If you knock on my door at 3am, I WILL make you an egg salad sandwich with bacon and lettuce on fancy french bread.

More later...

Green Room

So last night we had a show. My boss came; other co-workers came. They enjoyed it, and so did I. Since it is a "Festival of One-Acts", and I'm only in the first one, I have a lot of down-time back stage. When actors aren't on stage, they can often be found in the Green Room. This is a room, or closet, or end-of-the-hall, where actors can put on their costumes and make-up and quietly repeat lines to themselves and others. Frequently these rooms are sweltering (or freezing) and poorly lit.

Over the course of this show, I've had many enjoyable times in the Green Room. I've played Telephone Pictionary (funnest game ever for groups), I've been pooped on by a hedgehog (no really, a REAL one. The pooping wasn't so fun - but the snuggling before was cool). I've been involved in good massages and better conversations. But last night, there was THE best conversation:

We were discussing pregnancy, because that's kind of what one of the shows is about. One of the What-to-expect-when-you're-expecting type of books was saying that if you're about to give birth, but you're stuck alone, you shouldn't panic, because a woman's body can do most of the work itself. Without missing a beat, a guy in the show who plays a rather dry-witted penguin, says:
"If you're giving birth and you're alone, just dial up Papa Gino's(pizza) and leave the door ajar. That way, when they get there, they'll be responsible for delivering the baby, and when you're done you can eat the pizza."

That is an elegant solution, indeed. I love the theatre...

RaNdoM

Did you ever notice that most people have a crooked nose? I'm sure it has to do with the fact that though faces are fairly symmetrical, they are most certainly not exactly symmetrical. I've spent a lot of time in plays, for instance, having to sit/stand/be very still and having little to do except watch other people's faces. So, I've gathered a lot of evidence to support my theory.

So, switching gears, it's August, but in Boston/Cambridge it feels like fall. It's dark and rainy and cool. Admittedly, it is easier to be outside, but there's something to be said about the loving glow provided by the sun and how it makes you feel like everything is ok. I've been remarking with the lovely J that days like these make me feel like I'm in an Edgar Allan Poe story. And that guy was messed up! First, the dude (a child of 2 actors) married his 13-year-old cousin, and when he died at 40, they weren't sure what killed him , but the causes that they thought possible at the time were: alcohol, brain congestion, cholera, drugs, heart disease, rabies, suicide, and tuberculosis. Holy potato, that's a lot of possibilities right there!

I would hate to have rabies. Like, a lot. I know that they no longer have to do that thing where they give you 20 long-needled shots in stomach, but still. I saw Cujo and I know I do not want to be a slobbery-murdering mess. I think Cujo was the shaggy dog equivalent of a zombie. Mmmmm...braaaaaaaaiiiinnnsss!

So, in closing, I'm throwing my hat in the ring for most random. I'm lookin' at you, here, Ouiser...